


Blue Milk and Costume Balls

by 221b_hound



Category: Dredd (2012), Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Costume Parties & Masquerades, Lactation, M/M, Nursing Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-28 07:35:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10826718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/221b_hound/pseuds/221b_hound
Summary: Matt hates costume parties, but he's been persuaded to go. It was a bad idea - until a chance encounter with a pretty redhead has things looking up. If only his ridiculous bantha costume would stop leaking blue milk everywhere.





	Blue Milk and Costume Balls

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Winklepicker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winklepicker/gifts).
  * In response to a prompt by [AtlinMerrick](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AtlinMerrick/pseuds/AtlinMerrick) in the [31_Days_of_Porn_Challenge_2017](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/31_Days_of_Porn_Challenge_2017) collection. 



> Prompt: Nursing or Lactating

Matt expected it to end badly.

These supposedly ‘fun’ mandatory social events, where the crew mingled, and _chatted_ , and _got to know one another_. They _always_ ended badly, in Matt’s experience. He hadn’t a clue about the social clues. He didn’t know how to make small talk. He’d try to slide his way casually into a conversation and instead he’d _loooooom_ over everyone and not notice he was making the whole thing awkward until suddenly everyone spotted an acquaintance across the room and fled. Or worse, told him he was being creepy.

Matt didn’t mean to be creepy. He just didn’t know how this talking to people thing _worked_.

Apparently, he didn’t know how costume parties worked either. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. It’s just that he didn’t have anything in his meagre and too-functional wardrobe that he could turn into a costume. Not one that he was willing to wear in public anyway. Four sheets and a shower curtain do not a Hutt make.

He shouldn’t have listened to Avro Kanin.

Matt sighed. At least he’d had the sense not to accept Kanin’s first suggestion, which was to dress up as a Wookiee. Surely everyone knew that dressing up as another sentient species was a stupid and insulting thing to do. Especially since that idiot last year who’d gone fur-face to a planetside party and deeply offended a Senator and her personal Wookiee honour guard.

Unfortunately, Matt had let Kanin persuade him what fun it would be to dress up as a very large _non_ -sentient creature.

All of this only went part way to explaining why Matt was now hiding in a side corridor, dressed as an upright female bantha with the eight, too-realistic teats of it filled with blue milk.

Matt took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes and thought that phrase again.

_Dressed as an upright female bantha with the eight, too-realistic teats of it filled with blue milk._

Nope. That right there was reason enough to be hiding in a corridor, slipping away unseen from that awful party and those awful people and all the awful awfulness of it all.

Matt made the decision to return to his quarters and get drunk. On his ownsome own. Good company. At least, not awful company. He could read. Watch a vid. Write a letter home. Plot some kind of revenge on Avro Kanin for convincing him that people would finally see he had a _great_ sense of humour if he wore eight milky tits to go with his eight-pack abs.

And he could get this heavy, blue-milk-laden, kriffing bantha suit _off_.

Matt pushed away from the wall that was propping him up in all his humiliated misery.

And the next moment he was falling against it again, with the momentum from the skinny redhead dressed as General Hux bouncing off him. The redhead ricocheted onto the opposite wall and dropped like a stone, arms over his head.

Right up until the last thing, Matt was prepared to turn and yell. But then the skinny guy had his arms over his head and two wide blue mech-eyes were peeping up at him through the gap in between his delicate wrists in fear, and the guy dressed as General Hux was saying, “Sorry. Sorry.”

Definitely not General Hux then.

Then Matt heard Avro Kanin’s voice yelling in fury, “He came this way!!”

The redhead flinched and began to scramble to his feet. He looked left and right, frantic. Left lead to the freshers and would be filled with drunk party people. Right was the source of Kanin’s gleeful-aggressive shout.

 _The enemy of my enemy is my friend_ was a mantra Matt more felt than recited, but the big man could be quick when he needed to be. He wrapped his huge hands around the redhead’s narrow shoulders, pushed the redhead behind him and down, then contrived to lean against the wall, in his bulky bantha suit, becoming a fur-and-rubber shield. The redhead, smart man, hunkered down low behind the wall of man, fake fur and leaky teats, and made himself small, small, _small_.

Kanin and three of his useless mates came tearing down the corridor and stopped abruptly. They all three snorted with laughter at Matt.

“A lady bantha with glasses! You ever seen the like?” said one.

Matt pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“You look like a kriffing moron,” said another.

Matt folded his arms and glared.

“Nah, boys. He’s got a _great_ sense of humour.” That was Kanin and his shit-eating grin.

Matt let his arms hang loose at his side, his big hands flexing.

“I do,” said Matt, “I’m a big human man dressed up like a big bantha female. And the teats are full of blue milk. It’s funny. See?” His smile was all teeth and no humour.

“You're a funny _freak_ ,” said Kanin. “Speaking of freaks, did you see a droid-eyed ginger borg bastard run this way?”

“Nope.”

“He was dressed like General Hux, the disrespectful mudcrutch.”

Matt took off his glasses and cleaned them against the fake bantha fur on his shoulder. He put his glasses back on. “Nope.” He peered at Kanin. “Is that bilerat stew all over your… costume?”

Kiran was dressed as a droid. Apparently going silver-face to a costume party wasn’t considered as bigoted as going fur-face. Probably just because a droid wouldn’t tear your arm off if it was offended.

On the whole, Matt thought he liked droids a lot better than he liked people. He certainly already liked Redhead better than Avro Kanin.

Kanin scowled. “Did you see him?”

“No, I didn’t see anyone dressed as General Hux. I didn’t see General Hux. I could smell _you_ coming, though.

Kanin jabbed Matt in the chest while his cronies squared up behind him. As he jabbed, blue milk leaked in another cascade down the rubber front of the bantha belly. "Stupid kriffing borg-licker."

“You know,” Matt said casually, “I can bench press the weight of a nerf. I spot for Kylo Ren sometimes.” He brought his big hands up to inspect the size of them. He flexed them again. He smiled tightly at Kanin. “It’s a good thing I have a _great_ sense of humour. Don’t you think?”

He curled one hand into a fist. That fist looked like it could break a nose very easily. Possibley right through to the back of the skull.

Kanin backed away slightly. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s a great costume. You look fantastic. Everyone says how funny you are.”

“Do they.” No upward inflection. A more menacing scowl.

“So if you didn’t see this little dweezer, we’ll be off.”

“Nope. No sign of any more dweezers. Just you lot.” Then he grinned, all teeth again. “That’s a joke. Funny. See?”

Kanin and his sidekicks agreed it was hilarious by leaving quickly.

Matt waited till they’d gone then sighed and turned around. He looked down at the Pretend General Hux crouched on the floor between him and the wall. His gaze was met by a pair of blue mech-eyes, surmounted by fiery red arches and underscored by a grin full of mischief and gratitude.

Matt liked that face. Nice lips, he thought. That skin. Like milk.

An unfortunate association because right then a dribble of blue milk escaped from a nipple fissure in the collision-damaged bantha suit and fell on the skinny man’s cute nose and luscious lips. The man's pink tongue poked out and licked up the dribble of milk.

Matt thought he might die of mortification.

“Thanks for the rescue,” said the pretty redhead, standing up. He tugged the dark cap off his head and ran his slender fingers through the long hair that tumbled out. He was still licking blue milk off his mouth and wiping the back of his hand over his milk-wet nose. He licked the back of his hand, too.

Matt tried not to stare. He stared anyway. “Did you dump bilerat stew all over that vac-head?” he asked, trying to make it not look like he was staring.

The redhead scowled. “Deserved it. Kriffing silver-face. Like droids and borgs aren’t people too.” He blinked rapidly, his blue eyes whirring wide, narrow, wide narrow.

“He’s a mudcrutch,” said Matt.

“He is,” agreed the pretty man.

Another dribble of blue milk escaped the bantha suit and landed on the man’s black boot. The man shook his foot, sending blue milk droplets flying, then grinned sheepishly at Matt.

“I’m Techie.”

“Hi. I'm Matt.”

“Thanks for hiding me, Matt.”

“No problem, Techie. Should I ask why you’re dressed like General Hux?”

“That mudcrutch told me he had a great costume to go with my red hair. I didn’t know it was General Hux until Captain Phasma came to have a word with me.”

“How did you not know it was meant to be General Hux? Don’t you watch the speeches?”

“Not if I can help it. He shouts a lot.”

“He does,” agreed Matt.

“Should I ask why you’re dressed as a lactating bantha?”

Matt sighed. “Kanin’s idea.”

“Kanin’s a mudcrutch.”

“He is.”

The heft of Matt’s sigh was then so hefty that blue milk this time squirted right out at an upward angle and hit Techie in the chin. Matt wanted to die.

Techie just grinned and wiped it up with his fingers, then sucked his fingers clean.

Matt was so surprised by arousal he stood ramrod straight in every sense of the word, but that only caused the leak to squirt harder and longer. Techie tried to block it with his hands but since that wasn’t working he took the most direct route to a solution and sort of lunged at Matt to put his mouth right over the squirting rubber nipple.

And he sucked. Two or three times; big long sucking gulps.

Matt stared and stared and stared and he didn’t move a muscle.

Techie, throat bobbing as he swallowed, looked up at Matt’s face from under long golden lashes.

Matt looked down at him from under long blond ones.

Nobody knew what to say.

Techie, a man of impulse, just… sucked down the last mouthful and swallowed. He released the rubber nipple. He backed away.

“Sorry. It was just. Getting everywhere.”

“Yes,” said Matt in a strangled voice. He’d gone hard. He’d gone so hard. So so so kriffing hard, watching that man’s lush lips wrapped around nipples that weren’t even his, and sucking. He couldn’t even pretend to not understand why it was so arousing. That beautiful mouth could have been sucking on other things. His own actual nipples for a start. His cock, for a close second. He could have been swallowing other things too.

And then Matt noticed two things.

He noticed that this guy Techie had noticed Matt’s erection, because Matt’s erection was making the base of the bantha costume stick out weirdly where no sticking out was meant to occur. _Damn this stupid rubber costume._

And then Matt noticed that Techie’s costume had developed a pleasing tent in the middle of the General Hux pants.

“Ah…” began Matt, not sure what the next words might be, but he hoped they included something coherent along the lines of, _you’re hot, I’m game if you are, come back to my place?_

Of course, that’s when this kriffing bantha suit and its kriffing teats dribbled more kriffing blue milk all over the kriffing place.

“Kanin made your costume out of a nursing vest from a bantha nursery and that Wookiee costume that caused all that trouble last year,” observed Techie. “He’s a mudcrutch.”

Matt sighed and more milk spilled.

“That’s making a mess,” said Techie.

“Yes it is.” Because what else was there to say?

“I could… if you want…”

Techie kind of goldfished, opening and shutting his mouth in pantomime of what he’d done not a handful of rapid heartbeats ago.

Matt’s eyes opened wiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiide and he nodded nodded nodded nodded nodded. He may have squeaked out, “Sure,” but afterwards he never remembered.

Techie got the message though, and that clever man with the gorgeous hair and beautiful eyes and those lips that Matt wanted to lick – that superb man leaned down and wrapped his lips over the second oozing rubber nipple and suckled.

Matt’s knees went weak. He held himself up on the wall and watched. Techie looked up under those golden lashes again and then he put on a show. Puckering his lips. Sucking. Licking the rubber nipple and lapping up blue milk with the tip of his tongue.

He was very thorough and he didn’t stop until the bantha-nursing teat was empty.

Matt was very, very hard.

Techie swallowed and he wiped his chin. He stood back again and glanced down. At how hard Matt was. At his own General Hux Standing to Attention. He looked back at Matt and was smiling again.

“I like blue milk,” he said.

“Um. Yeah. I… see. Me too.”

“I should go get changed. If General Hux catches me dressed like this he’s going to shout, I’m pretty sure.”

“Oh. Of course.” Matt tried hard to not be disappointed.

“Is your place closer, or mine?” asked Techie, “Cos I think you probably want to clean up too.” He nodded at a new leak of blue milk. Then he leaned over to lick it up, but the pressure in the nursing vest had dropped so it wasn’t so wet. Other things were, maybe.

“I’m two decks up,” said Matt breathlessly, watching.

“I’m four decks down.” Licking his lips.

“Want to come to my place? I gotta get this thing off.”

“If you’re okay leaving the party.”

“I hate this party.”

Techie beamed at him.

It took a little while to clean up once they got to Matt’s quarters.

Techie insisted on emptying the nursing vest the hard way. By suckling. Which naturally made them both very hard. They eventually had to take off all their clothes to get comfortable.

Matt was right. Techie’s mouth was even better sucking on Matt’s sensitive nipples and his thick cock than he was at the rubber nipples.

Matt of course returned the favour, on Techie’s cute little nips and rosy prick.

Later, after they’d shoved those awful costumes into the trash compactor, Techie lay sprawled all over Matt’s big torso, running his fingers over Matt’s genuine eight-pack abs. One of Matt’s big hands was cupped over Techie’s bum, the other was playing with Techie’s hair.

“I like your hair,” said Matt.

“I like yours,” said Techie.

“I like your mouth,” said Matt.

“I like your ears,” said Techie.

Matt grinned, self-conscious but pleased. “I like your eyes,” he said.

Techie’s breath hitched. He lifted Matt’s hands and kissed the knuckles. “I like you,” he said.

“I like you, too,” said Matt.

 (The following year they told everyone they were going to the mandatory fancy dress party as a cloaking device. Instead, they spent the five hours of the event having epic sex with a nursing vest in their now joint quarters. Kanin and his crew were kidnapped, drunk, by a borg offended by their silver-face. Captain Phasma found them hanging upside down in the landing bay with their arses painted gold. Good times.)


End file.
